Actuality
by findingbetty
Summary: Fake roommates, fake boyfriends and fake college presentations. A story of being honest with yourself, and honest with others. @findingbetty on AO3
1. Chapter 1 - Gathering

If there was one thing that Betty was sure of, it was that this was very much a now or never sort of a scenario.

Time was of the essence - and that could be said for more than just her dating life. With less than half of the academic year left, it was almost frightening the way time seemed to have just slipped by. To make matters worse, it didn't look to be slowing down.

Betty leaned forward forward and inspected her appearance more closely in the mirror, brushing a loose eyelash off her cheek. She blinked a few times, and then flipped her hair over her shoulder.

There was a knock at her door, only faintly audible over the muffled sounds of chatter and laughter coming from the next door room.

"Come in," Betty called.

In the reflection of the mirror, she saw her bedroom door open, and her roommate Jughead come into view. He looked mildly stressed.

"You're still in here?" he said disbelievingly. "Betty, are you planning on making an appearance any time soon at this function you're supposedly hosting?"

Betty turned around and rolled her eyes at him. "This function _we_ are hosting," she corrected. "You live here too."

He could be so melodramatic sometimes.

In all fairness, though, said function had not really been his idea. Nor, for that matter, had she really run it by him when their friend Veronica had proposed their apartment serve as the location for what she'd referred to as a 'small social gathering'. And this was mostly because Betty had suspected he would say no.

Though generally friendly and easy-going, Jughead was not known to be the most enthusiastic host. He also tended to be, perhaps justifiably, a little skeptical about plans that were hatched by Veronica. She had a track record of throwing slightly wild parties, was something of a social butterfly, and loved drama almost as much as drama seemed to love her.

While Betty could understand Jughead might be hesitant about the proposal, in this instance Veronica's intentions seemed well-meaning enough, and she'd offered to handle the majority of the hosting duties anyway. Betty had felt a little guilty about it, but had opted to break the news to Jughead gently when it was too late to uninvite everyone. He'd been predictably opposed to the idea at first, but had eventually given in and agreed.

Betty now realised that might have been under the condition she herself actually make an appearance.

"I'll be out in a moment," she placated him, still peering at her reflection in the mirror. This was important. If she was going to seduce Archie tonight, a little preparation surely wouldn't go amiss.

Behind her Jughead let out an exaggerated sigh. He hovered for a moment, as though he might be about to say something else, but then he backed out of the room, closing her door again.

Betty and Jughead hadn't exactly discussed her debilitating and hopelessly all-consuming crush on his friend Archie, but she suspected him of having at least some awareness that this was the case. Jughead was quietly observant, and he was also fairly perceptive. He had a tendency to pick up on things that other people missed. She hadn't mentioned to him that Veronica had, in part, orchestrated this gathering to provide Betty with an opportunity to get Archie alone, but she thought there was a high chance he might have been able to deduce that for himself.

When Betty finally emerged from her room, it became immediately apparent to her why Jughead had seemed a little stressed. She'd been aware there was a fair amount of commotion coming from the main area of the apartment, but it was only now that she realised what Veronica had marketed as a 'small social gathering' seemed to include not only most of their mutual friends, but also friends of friends she didn't even recognise.

The apartment was spacious enough for her and Jughead, but as she wove her way through the crowds of people, it occurred to Betty that it wasn't really that well suited to a group already in excess of thirty.

In her quest to find Veronica, Betty encountered several other people she knew - all of whom were in various states of intoxication. They seemed to alternate between shrieking in delight and hugging her. Veronica was eventually discovered to be in the kitchen.

"Oh! There you are!" Veronica exclaimed. "I was starting to think you weren't coming."

"Ha. Ha."

Betty's lack of humour did little to dampen Veronica's enthusiasm. She handed Betty a drink, and then nodded unnecessarily at the crowds of people occupying the apartment. "Great turn out, huh?"

Veronica seemed pleased. Betty registered a degree of concern that several more people she didn't know seemed to have just arrived, but nodded in agreement anyway, pleased _for_ her - pleased that people had showed up, and pleased that people seemed to be enjoying themselves. She was even more pleased to see Archie over in the corner, engaged in what looked to be reasonably jovial conversation.

Veronica followed her gaze. "So," she said, as the two of them watched Archie. "Tonight's the night?"

Betty took a sip of her drink and nodded again. There were very few people she'd really confided in over the years about her feelings for Archie, but Veronica was one of them. In fact, it was Veronica who had managed to convince Betty that, if Archie was so very important to her, then she should possibly consider working up the courage to do something about it.

That was easier said than done. But as Veronica had pointed out, this was the last semester of the last year of her degree. There were not unlimited chances at the things you wanted in life, and now seemed to be as good a time as any to try and finally make what she wanted a reality.

"Do you need backup?" Veronica asked, still observing Archie intently.

Betty tipped her head back and sculled the rest of her drink, returning it the the kitchen counter with a flourish.

"No," she said, steeling herself. "I've got this."

* * *

Betty still had vivid recollections of the first time she'd met Archie. They'd been assigned as lab partners in the elective psychology paper she'd taken in her first year.

Archie had proven to be something of a liability. He'd been perpetually distracted, was a little reckless in his approach to collecting data, and Betty'd had to rewrite a substantial amount of their joint lab report. But what he lacked in discipline and understanding of social psychology, he did more than make up for in social skills. He was friendly and charming in a way that made it almost impossible not to find him endearing. He was also in a band, and he had a nice smile and great hair. To complicate matters, Archie was wildly popular. So Betty had silently joined a long list of admirers.

She'd also gone on to join his friend group. But here she was, several years later, still unable to let go of what else could possibly be.

At least now she had a plan afoot.

That said, it was true that she didn't have it all quite as under control as she would have liked. Despite what she'd told Veronica, an hour later, things were not really going as planned.

For starters, there had been rather more people involved in her attempts at conversation with Archie than she would have liked. Archie had a lot of friends, and he seemed fairly intent on talking to every single one of them. This in itself was problematic, and not especially conducive to Betty's plans. But even more problematic was that she kept being interrupted by Jughead. He kept seeking her out to express his concerns about the dishevelled state of their apartment, and the increasingly inebriated state of its occupants.

It was true that someone had knocked over a potted plant, somebody else had taken to the fridge with a permanent marker, and multiple drinks had been split over the carpet. But Jughead's concerns about all of this seemed to grossly outweigh those of Veronica's - to whom the apartment actually belonged, though that was another story. For that reason, Betty was really struggling to be interested in his plight. She was on a mission here.

When she'd dismissed Jughead's concerns for the umpteenth time, and went to phase herself back into casual conversation with Archie, she realised he'd been joined by a girl she didn't even know.

 _Great._

"Oh Betty," Archie said casually, "this is Valerie."

Betty smiled at Valerie, who was probably nice enough, but whose presence was really making all of this much more difficult than it needed to be.

"Do I recognise you from somewhere?" Valerie asked.

This was the kind of conversational question one asked when they weren't quite sure what else to say, and Betty very much doubted Valerie did actually recognise her.

"Don't you work in the university library?"

Okay, so maybe Valerie did recognise her. Betty did, in fact, work in the central library.

"Yeah," Betty nodded. "Just part time. Just to help cover the rent."

Valerie smiled and nodded. "And how do you know Archie's friend Jughead?" she went on, apparently still intent on making polite conversation.

Betty wasn't sure how to redirect the flow of this conversation, wasn't sure how to redirect Valerie, wasn't sure how to redirect this entire evening.

"Betty lives here," Archie chided in.

"Oh!" Valerie acknowledged, in Betty's view finding this much more interesting than necessary. "And how long have you and Jughead been dating?"

"Wait...what?" Betty said, now confused.

Archie laughed. "Betty and Jughead aren't dating," he told Valerie. "They're just roommates. He moved in here when Veronica moved out."

"Ohhh, I see."

Betty was now wishing she could see a way out of this conversation, but short of going to get another drink, she couldn't really.

"I'm going to get another drink," she said hastily.

Archie looked a little confused, and that might have had everything to do with the fact that Betty was not typically a 'going to get another drink' kind of girl. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and also she wasn't good enough at thinking on the spot to dream up anything else up.

"Nice to meet you," Valerie smiled, waving in farewell.

Valerie actually _was_ nice, Betty thought as she left the two of them to it. And that was the worst part.

* * *

Betty did get another drink. For that matter, she got several more drinks. She vaguely recalled despairing to Veronica in the kitchen later that evening that all had not gone as planned. Then she remembered very little at all, which turned out to have been due to an extended, alcohol induced nap.

There was a first for everything.

It was some time later, in the early hours of the morning, that Betty regained consciousness. Curled up on the couch, she became vaguely aware of Jughead showing out the last of their friends. She sat up as she heard the door close, her head spinning.

"You're alive."

Betty chose not to acknowledge this, instead leaning forward and burying her face in her hands.

"You alright?"

"Yes," she replied, her voice muffled by her hands.

Through the gaps between her fingers, she saw Jughead enter her line of vision, and set about filling a rubbish bag with red cups and God only knew what else.

It seemed to be irrepressible, this uncontrollable need of Jughead's to keep their apartment clean. She thought it might be partly to blame for his dislike of hosting such events. All of this cleaning could surely be done in the morning, but Betty was hardly in the mood to argue with him.

"It didn't work," Betty said, now recalling the events of the evening, and unable to keep the small sadness out of her voice.

"What didn't work?" Jughead asked patiently, starting to clear glasses off the sideboard.

It took all of Betty's energy to sit up back and rearrange herself. She stared up at the ceiling, noting it was still spinning a little. "Archie," she sighed, suddenly compelled to air this unfortunate end to several years worth of pining. "I don't think he's going to fall in love with me."

There was a long pause, during which Jughead seemed to be thinking of an appropriate response to this uncharacteristically emotional, alcohol induced confession. That he didn't express surprise at this seemed to confirm what Betty had earlier suspected - that he was more clued in to the more delicate balances in her life than he let on.

"I don't think anyone's going to fall in love with me," she added, more for dramatic impact than anything else.

Jughead scoffed, having now moved on to stacking stray glasses in the dishwasher.

"You don't sound very sympathetic," Betty said, summonsing as much indignance as was possible in this hazy state. It was rare that Jughead offered sympathy, but she rather felt that now would have been an appropriate time for him to do so.

"We can't always get what we want," Jughead said shortly, punctuating this statement by closing the dishwasher a little more loudly that was probably necessary.

Out of her peripheral vision, she saw Jughead cross the room to the couch she was in. The cushions to her right sank a little as he collapsed down next to her.

He didn't say anything.

"Are you mad at me?" Betty asked. "For Veronica's party?"

Jughead gave the sort of half hearted laugh that was mostly just exhaling more air than usual out of his nose. "No, I'm not mad at you."

"You seem mad."

"I'm not mad, Betty. I'm a little unhappy with all this mess, but I'm not mad." He paused. "I'm sorry things didn't work out with Archie."

"Me too."

To suddenly be discussing the topic of Archie in this kind of detail was a little odd. Though it perhaps not entirely unexpected, in a hazy kind of way. The kind of hazy that was born out of too much alcohol, and feelings of vulnerability, and the possibility that maybe everything you'd been hoping for wasn't going to work out.

"Did he leave with anyone?" Betty asked quietly.

"Yes."

"Was it Valerie?" she prodded, knowing the answer but needing to ask anyway.

Jughead didn't reply immediately, but when he did he simply repeated himself. "Yes."

There was a long silence while Betty wallowed in this. And then she leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder. "I think I need more alcohol."

"I don't think that's what you need," Jughead said flatly.

Betty lifted her head and looked at him, waiting for him to make eye contact. Willing him to give her some answers.

He stared blankly ahead, stoically refusing to look at her.

In years to come, Betty would never quite be sure what propelled her to do so, but out of nowhere she leaned over and planted a kiss on Jughead's mouth.

Perhaps it was best blamed on the alcohol.

She pulled back immediately, and now that he was finally looking at her, it was with an expression of absolute bewilderment.

"I don't think that's what you need either," he said, sounding amused.

Betty shrugged in dejection. "I just wanted to be sure."

She could tell the follow up question was on the tip of his tongue. For all his outward appearance of calm collectedness, there was something a little less sure in his eyes. Something that made it very clear he knew precisely what was happening, and that he perhaps wasn't altogether opposed to it.

"And… are you?" he finally asked, his voice quiet.

Betty breathed out slowly, then shook her head.

There was only the smallest window of opportunity to consider regret, and to wonder if this was perhaps not one of her best thought out decisions. Betty disregarded it, instead leaning in and kissing him again.

And this time, she felt him kiss her back.


	2. Chapter 2 - From Now On

The very first thing that Betty registered when she woke up was that it was imperative she find a bathroom.

For a moment, that was really all that concerned her. Between her intense nausea and splitting headache, she was largely out of mental capacity to deal with anything else. And then she rolled over and collided with someone else, and just like that her concerns multiplied.

Betty gasped, scrambled a little to roll back, and then peeked an anxious eye open.

 _Jughead._

It was all coming back to her. It was hazy, and parts of it were blurred, but if she really thought about it properly, Jughead had actually been rather more a feature of her evening than he usually was. She wasn't exactly sure of to what extent, but she'd now registered she was at least wearing her bra and underwear, and that had to count for something.

Jughead's eyelids seemed to flutter a little at the sudden commotion. He rolled a little further into his pillow, but otherwise went on sleeping.

It took Betty less than ten seconds to surmise that the only way forward from here was to quickly and quietly extricate herself from the situation. That said, as easy a conclusion as that had been to reach, it was rather less easy to follow through on. Betty's bed was pushed up against the wall, and as the person closest to the wall, the only way she could envisage making an escape was going to entail climbing over Jughead.

That seemed risky. That seemed like something that would _definitely_ wake him up.

But she was running a bit short of other options, and her stomach was churning such that she was also running out of time.

Betty wriggled a little to free herself from the sheet she was tangled up in. And then, with as much precision and care as was possible in her current state, and doing her best to minimise her movements, she sat up and proceeded to climb delicately over Jughead's sleeping form.

She'd all but made it when, without warning, Jughead rolled over. Betty lost her balance and collapsed somewhat haphazardly on top of him,

"Shit," Jughead mumbled blearily, sitting up as Betty scrambled off him and off the bed.

Her worst fears had been realised. He was awake.

"What are you doing?" Jughead's voice cracked through all five syllables, though that doing nothing to disguise his utter bewilderment.

"I'm making a discrete exit," Betty retorted, doing her best to regather herself and resume her mission to the bathroom.

"Why didn't you just wake me up?" he asked. He still sounding half asleep.

"Because that would have been awkward!"

"And this _isn't_?"

Betty thought it best not to answer that, and went about searching for an item of clothing. Absolutely any item of clothing, anything that would mitigate more time than necessary spent walking around in this state of undress. She grabbed an old oversized t-shirt that lay discarded on the floor, and scarpered for the bathroom.

Hunched over the toilet, Betty began to reconcile that her entire morning thus far had been very out of the ordinary. She was not, by nature, a heavy drinker. It was a rare occurrence that she drank enough to encounter a hangover, and even rarer that she found herself unable to recall parts of her evenings. As this one had, such occasions largely came about as a direct result of Veronica's doing. As good a friend as Veronica was, she wasn't always the best influence.

Furthermore, Betty had never unexpectedly woken up in anyone else's bed, let alone the bed of her roommate. She was reasonably confident nothing hugely regrettable had taken place. Her hazy recollections seemed mostly to feature a lot of kissing, and at some point both of them had discarded more clothes than was necessary and ended up in her bed. She wasn't sure what Jughead's excuse was, but she supposed hers was that she'd been a little drunk. That kind of emotional, needy drunk that blurred your inhibitions and made everything seem like a better idea than it really was.

None of this really meant anything, but that didn't make it any less awkward. It was awkward to wake up in your roommate's bed in any case, but even more so when it was Jughead. She'd known him for a good three years by now, and he had been her roommate for the last six months. In all of those years, she'd never been lead to believe he was even faintly interested in more than friendship - nor had she encountered any romantic feelings for him of her own.

All of which really begged the question of why she'd woken up next to him.

In the interests of preserving their friendship, and what was left of their roommate boundaries, Betty wondered if perhaps she and Jughead could pretend that whatever happened had, well, _never_ happened. Or perhaps they could just pretend it was inevitable, and move forward without delving into it any further. Either way, pretending really did seem like the best option at this point. Her best hope was that, while she was busy throwing up vodka, Jughead would traipse off to his room, and they could both move forward with their weekend in feigned ignorance.

But that was apparently not to be so. Upon emerging from her ensuite, she found Jughead was still there. He was perched awkwardly on the edge of her bed, his hair mussed up and brows knitted in deep thought.

Betty gave him the kind of nonchalant look that didn't really convey anything, but which she hoped might encourage him to leave.

He didn't leave. Instead, he cleared his throat in a hesitant kind of way. "Feeling any better?" he asked tentatively.

"Not really." It was blunt, but it was also very true.

"Oh."

The was an uncomfortable pause.

Betty took a deep breath. "Look, about last night-"

"Betty, it's fine," Jughead interrupted hastily. "We don't have to talk about it."

Betty felt an overwhelming wave of gratitude towards him. Somewhere in the back of her mind she'd wondered if perhaps she owed him an explanation. She'd wondered if she was supposed to explain that all of this had somehow arisen out of self pity, and crippling disappointment and years of feeling invisible. That I didn't mean anything, and that maybe it was all just because they'd both been a little drunk - her more so than she really liked to admit.

But because he didn't ask that of her, she brushed this idea aside. "Okay," she said. "That's good. I'm all for pretending it never happened."

Jughead scratched his head absentmindedly. "Technically nothing did," he shrugged.

Well, at least Betty now had confirmation of that. "Precisely," she quipped. "So really nothing's changed."

"Not at all," Jughead agreed quickly.

"And it didn't mean anything."

"No it didn't."

"It's not weird."

"Nah."

"And it won't be awkward."

"Nnnnope."

The very awkward silence that followed seemed rather to contradict this closing statement, but regardless, Jughead stood up and picked his sweater up off Betty's bedroom floor. He paused briefly to make eye contact with her one final time, smiled appeasingly, and then walked calmly out of the room.

Jughead closed her door behind him, and Betty was left to collect her thoughts, her regrets, and what very little was left of her dignity.

* * *

Having had a little more time to reflect on the events of the night before, Betty found herself in slightly more positive spirits by the time the afternoon rolled around. Such was always the way. The more time you had to distance yourself from poor decisions, the easier it was to dissociate from them entirely, and pretend they had been through no fault of your own.

Betty hadn't seen Jughead since this morning, something she suspected he might have orchestrated on purpose. While their agreement to move forward in feigned ignorance was in place, Betty was still relieved to have a little space. Time to get used to the idea, time to nurse her hangover, and time to conduct her share of the cleaning up.

Jughead's cleaning efforts the night before had been pretty thorough. Most of the rubbish had been disposed of, the majority of the cups and plates washed, and the mess from the broken potted plant swept away. In terms of fall out, the most problematic thing was that the fridge still read I LOVE REGGIE in angry, permanent black marker.

Betty was fond of Reggie. When he wasn't vandalising their fridge, he was actually very nice. While prone to making poorly thought out decisions, as evidenced by his self implicating scrawl, she appreciated his friendship, humour and loyalty. Ordinarily, Betty would have been highly concerned about the long term implications of Reggie's actions - both for her relationship with her landlord, and the risk that posed to her tenancy bond. But since her landlord was technically Veronica, and since Veronica had technically instigated the proceedings that led to Reggie's vandalism, Betty didn't quite feel the usual overbearing weight of responsibility.

Veronica's wealthy parents had purchased the two-bedroom apartment for their daughter at the beginning of her degree, wanting to ensure she had suitable ongoing accommodation throughout her tertiary studies. Located only a short distance from the student quarters, the apartment was safe, modern and well-appointed. As one of Veronica's closest friends, Betty had been lucky enough to have spent most of her university career as Veronica's roommate. Until, that was, the beginning of their last year, when Veronica had announced she would be moving out to live with her girlfriend Cheryl.

At the time, Betty had been a little hurt. As much as she'd been happy for Veronica, she'd been saddened by the idea of their living arrangement coming to an end, and saddened by thought of the potential impact that might have on their friendship. Having only ever lived with Veronica, she was also extremely apprehensive about the idea of having to find a new roommate.

However, as these things often do, everything had turned out okay. Their friend Jughead had been searching for a new apartment for his last year, and had taken over Veronica's room. Betty wasn't sure what kind of arrangement Veronica had come to with her parents about this, considering the apartment had been purchased for her specifically, but the details of that had never really come up. Technicalities aside, Betty had been pleasantly surprised by how easy a transition it had been. And as much as she missed Veronica, the two of them had successfully maintained their close friendship.

Jughead was easy to live with, easy to talk to and just generally easy going. He was also funny, albeit in a dry, sarcastic sort of way, and he wasn't one to pry for information that wasn't offered to him. Betty thought that may have been because he wasn't particularly forthcoming himself. Despite having known him for all of these years, she still found him to be something of enigma. And as a direct consequence of all of this, it had been very easy to reach a silent agreement about roommate boundaries. Neither of them got overly involved in the intricacies of the others' life. They shared similar hours, similar interests and a little of the cooking, but that was about it. Everything was just simple and _easy_.

Well, it _had_ been. Until Betty got drunk and kissed Jughead, and spent the night with him in her bed.

She cringed just thinking about it, and then remembered that was why they'd agreed to pretend it had never happened, and tried to redirect her thought train.

If there was one good thing about her drunken misstep last night, it really had served as an excellent distraction from her previously all-consuming misery about Archie. There was nothing like a new negative development in your life to distract you from an old one.

Betty had just finished emptying the recycling bin and was on her way back upstairs when Veronica called. She paused a moment before answering, mentally trying get her story straight, and then swiped the screen to answer.

"Hello?" Betty said, trying to sound upbeat. She unlocked her apartment door and went back inside.

"Hiiii," Veronica trilled.

"Hey V. How are you doing?"

"I'm glorious! Isn't it such a nice day?"

Betty turned around and peered out the window. It actually did look to be quite a nice day, but having not been able to face the world in her hungover state, Betty hadn't quite realised this until just now. "Yeah," she said, trying to inject a little spirit into her voice.

"Are you hungover?" Veronica asked, correctly inferring this from Betty's half-hearted attempt at enthusiasm.

"A bit, yeah." This was a severe underestimation.

"What happened after I left last night?"

"Nothing much. Jughead cleaned up, I went to bed."

Veronica laughed on the other end of the line, seeming not to notice Betty's forced nonchalence. "So I'm guessing you don't want to come for a walk with me and Cheryl on this beautiful afternoon?"

Betty very much did not want to join Veronica and Cheryl for their work, though that was rather more multifaceted than her just being residually hungover. Although she'd never been brave enough to admit it to Veronica, Cheryl had always terrified Betty a little. She had something of a sharp personality, and a slight tendency to make rapid fire cutting comments. As much as Betty put up a good front of being friendly, she was always a little reluctant to spend more time with Cheryl than was entirely necessary.

"Not really," Betty said. "Not today."

Veronica laughed again. Betty again marvelled how she was in such fine spirits after last night - though in all fairness Veronica was typically much better than her at handling her alcohol.

"Okay, well I'll see you tomorrow?" Veronica pleaded.

"Of course," Betty reassured her. "Have a nice afternoon."

Betty ended the call, and dropped her phone onto the kitchen counter. She dragged herself over to the couch and, for the second time in twenty four hours, collapsed down onto it a somewhat defected state.

She really needed a nap.

* * *

Betty woke later that afternoon to the sound of Jughead arriving home. Before she'd even opened her eyes, she registered he had someone else with him. She immediately recognised Reggie's dulcet tones.

The couch lurched a little as someone sat down in the free space at Betty's feet.

"Hey Betty," she heard Reggie say, his voice jarringly loud in contrast to the earlier silence.

"Sshh," she mumbled. "I'm sleeping."

"It's 4pm," he said incredulously, shaking her foot.

Betty opened her eyes and rubbed the sleep out of them a little, sitting up to glare at Reggie.

"Reggie, leave her alone," Jughead called from the kitchen. "I specifically asked you to come over and clean this shit off the fridge."

Betty and Reggie both looked over to see Jughead brandishing at the fridge.

"It looks good though," Reggie argued halfheartedly.

Betty saw Jughead fix Reggie with the kind of death stare that she could foreseeably imagine threatened imminent death. "I does not look good," he intoned. "Please fix it."

Reggie hauled himself up off the couch and went over to make amends.

Jughead and Reggie's friendship had always intrigued Betty. As far as individuals went, one would struggle to find two people with quite so many differences. For a long time, Betty had assumed that they were really only friendly because they were both good friends with Archie. But since living with Jughead, she'd come to see that perhaps they shared more of an understanding than she'd originally thought. There was something about Reggie's brash exterior that offset Jughead's dry, sarcastic manner. They balanced each other out surprisingly well.

Jughead looked reasonably pleased with himself when Reggie sat down in front of the fridge, cleaning materials in hand. He turned to Betty. "Thanks for cleaning up."

"S'all good."

"I would have helped."

"No it's okay. You did most of it last night," Betty reasoned.

Jughead nodded slowly, and a slightly tense silence followed. The kind of tense silence that indicated it was easier said than done to forget about the events of last night.

Reggie turned around, suddenly in possession of inconveniently accurate intuion, and glanced back and forward between the two of them. "What's gotten into you two?"

"Nothing!" Betty and Jughead said in unison, a little too hastily for it to be convincing.

Reggie smirked. "Are you suuuurreee?"

"Yes," Jughead said, sounding awfully defensive. "We just…" He trailed off uncertainly.

"We just had an argument about cleaning," Betty interjected quickly, having noticed Reggie's interest at where Jughead's admission might be going.

Reggie looked disappointed in this faux revelation. Behind him, Jughead's furrowed brow indicated a degree of contempt that that was the best Betty cover-up story had been able to dream up.

"Okay," Reggie said slowly, glancing around the impossibly clean apartment. "That sounds unnecessary, but okay." He paused. "Like, this apartment is way cleaner these days than when Veronica lived here."

"That's because Jughead cleans obsessively," Betty went on, ignoring Jughead's glare and improvising wildly. "I complained to Veronica about it behind his back. And since he found out, we've been avoiding the topic because it's awkward," Betty finished lamely.

Jughead shook his head, apparently now in utter disbelief.

"Would we say that's awkward?" Reggie pondered, finding this sufficiently anticlimactic that he'd returned to scrubbing at the writing on the fridge.

"Yes," Jughead said dryly, having been left no other option but to play along.

"Well, I'm sorry for making things awkward," Betty said, glancing at Jughead apologetically so he knew what she was referring. "I should have thought about the consequences of my actions," she added. "I wasn't thinking."

Jughead sighed heavily, recognising her apology as genuine. "It's okay."

In that moment, Betty knew he meant it. They could move past this.

Reggie stood up abruptly, abandoning his duties altogether. "Right," he said. "Well I really want you guys to remember that I helped you work through that. Because I have to tell you, I don't think this shit is going to come off."

He had the decency to look moderately guilty. The three of them stared at Veronica's fridge, the angry lettering still very much there, if a little faded.

"Lucky you both love me," Reggie quipped.


	3. Chapter 3 - Showing Up Like This

By the time mid week rolled around, things were largely back to normal.

Betty had returned to full health, and, in the wake of indirectly workshopping the incidents of Saturday night with Reggie, she felt rather less awkward about being around Jughead. True to their word, neither of them had brought up the matter again. Pretending, as it turned out, was actually very easy.

Academic life went on. The new week brought forth new deadlines and new social commitments. Betty's schedule at this point in the semester was fairly relaxed, allowing her to rise at a reasonable hour on Wednesday morning, and prepare and eat her breakfast at a leisurely pace. The same could not be said for Jughead, however, who had an important in-class assessment taking place mid-morning, and seemed to have been up since some ungodly hour in a desperate attempt to do some last minute cramming. Accordingly, he was very flustered.

Betty sat primly at the kitchen counter as she finished the last of her blueberry porridge. She watched as Jughead rushed from one side of the room to the other, gathering stray belongings and assembling everything he needed for the day ahead. It was uncharacteristic of him to be in such a state of disorganisation. Then again, their week hadn't gotten off to very characteristic start.

She'd lived with Jughead for long enough, by now, to know that this was the kind of mildly panicked mode that didn't really welcome input. Typically, he did not take well to being told to calm down. And so all she could really do was observe as he first misplaced his keys, then couldn't find his preferred sweater, and later paused to rifle hastily through a textbook in search of some crucial piece of information he'd forgotten. Finally, he spent a good five minutes searching for his beanie, which turned out to have been in his room all along. Probably right where he'd left it.

Eventually, looking a little weary but slightly less frazzled, Jughead came over and dropped his bag on the kitchen counter. Betty looked up from the culinary magazine she had been perusing.

He exhaled dramatically. "I hate these assessments."

"I know," Betty sympathised. "I feel stressed on your behalf."

"Thanks." Jughead checked his phone. "I have ten minutes before I have to leave."

Betty didn't like to point out that this might have been avoided by approaching his morning more calmly.

"I can't go over my notes again," he added, more to himself than for Betty's benefit. "I'll go crazy."

Betty shrugged, trying not to be annoyed by the way he was now drumming his fingers on the kitchen counter. "Just sit for a minute," she suggested. "Breathe."

"Nope. Can't do that either. I need you to distract me," he said desperately. "Tell me what's new in life."

Betty quirked an eyebrow. "I'm actually busy here too," she pointed out, gesturing at her magazine. "Besides, nothing's new."

"Oh come on," Jughead pressed. "What about the all consuming, hopelessly inappropriate crush on Archie?"

"Hey!" Betty warned, indignant that he'd cross this unspoken boundary. "That's not up for discussion. You're not even supposed to know about that."

"Well," Jughead smirked, "I do now. So let's talk about it."

Betty closed her magazine, uncertain why she was letting herself bedragged into this discussion, but tired of dealing with the morning's dramatics. "If you must know," she said, pausing to take a sip of her tea, "I saw him yesterday while I was at work."

"At the library?"

"Yes."

"Did you talk to him?"

"No."

Jughead gave her an amused sort of look she didn't appreciate very much.

"He was with Valerie," Betty went on. "And they were studying. At the same table."

"That is outrageous."

Betty disregarded this sarcasm. "Veronica saw them there on Monday evening too."

"Maybe they're just friends," Jughead suggested reasonably. "Archie hasn't even mentioned Valerie to me."

"Okay," Betty said, disregarding this very plausible explanation, "but Veronica also saw them having lunch together at Frankly Sandwiches in the Link yesterday." She another sip of her tea.

Jughead shook his head at Betty's reluctance to let this slide. "Okay," he mimicked, "then maybe Archie's trying to make you jealous. I don't know what you want me to say."

Betty spluttered on her tea. "I didn't want you to say anything! You were the one who brought this up."

There was a short pause while Betty finished choking on her tea.

"Though you do raise an interesting point," Betty added when she'd finally recovered. "Because if he is, I suppose it's kind of working." She sipped her tea again. "Maybe I should try and make him jealous too."

Jughead laughed. "How?"

"I don't know," Betty shrugged. "I haven't thought through the logistics. But I'm sure I can find _someone_ to study and eat Frankly sandwiches with."

"Reggie would love that," Jughead chuckled. "And seeing as you already love Reggie," he added, gesturing at the fridge, "the whole ploy would actually be really believable."

This time it was Betty's time to laugh, though admittedly in a half-hearted, dejected kind of way. She'd been doing quite well at not dwelling on this so far today. And yet somehow she'd managed to get sucked into overthinking everything again - by Jughead, of all people.

"Look, I'm sure Reggie would be more than willing to help out with that," Jughead said, now sounding a little more serious. "But how about I just ask Archie what the story is with Valerie?"

Betty stared at him suspiciously.

Jughead rolled his eyes. "I won't give away any of the details," he intoned. " _Obviously."_

"Well," Betty said, deciding to instill a little faith in him. "That would be very helpful. Thank you." She picked up her magazine and opened it at random under the guise of renewed concentration.

Jughead chuckled. "Have a good day, Betts," he said, picking up his bag and making to leave.

"Good luck," she called as the door closed behind him.

* * *

Betty walked back from university later that afternoon in heavy rain. Having finished class for the day, and being fully up to date with all of her readings, she'd found herself at something of a loose end. She supposed she should have been grateful for the slight lull in her academic commitments, especially given Jughead's busy day. Instead, she found herself wondering how she was going to occupy her afternoon.

It was always difficult to fully appreciate free time until you didn't have any.

Arriving home, Betty hung up her raincoat and dried off a little. She'd reached the decision she would spend the afternoon curled up on the couch reading her book, but paused briefly to survey the state of the apartment, and wondered if it might be in her best interests to put some things away before she settled down.

Betty wasn't messy, per se, but she hardly adhered to Jughead's level of obsessive cleaning and tidying. In light of his 24 hours of academic stress, the apartment wasn't looking quite as orderly is it might usually. For the most part, Betty tried not to leave her belongings lying around for too long. The was because Jughead inevitably tidied them away somewhere she couldn't find them. And as good as he was at finding homes for things, he was quite as good at remembering where those homes might be.

Keeping this in mind, Betty opted to put a few of her belongings away. She also cleared some stray dishes, set a load of laundry to go, and threw out some overripe fruit. And then, feeling reasonably accomplished, she retrieved her book and curled up in one of the stray blankets on the couch. It was always nice to be snuggled up, cosy and warm, listening to the faint patter of rain outside. As interesting as her book was, Betty found herself so warm and comfortable that she thought it couldn't possibly hurt if she was to just rest her eyes. She drifted in and out of consciousness for a while, even though she'd only been meaning to close her eyes for just a moment, and then-

The apartment door burst open and collided with the wall behind it, causing a loud bang. Betty sat up abruptly, startled, her heart beating rapidly. Veronica was standing in the doorway, shaking the rain off her umbrella.

"Oh," Betty said, registering the large puddle of water pooling at Veronica's feet, and feeling slightly annoyed. "It's just you." She watched as Veronica then proceeded to double over, and suddenly realised she was quite clearly very out of breath.

"Is everything okay?" Betty asked tentatively.

Veronica stood back up, gasping for breath, and shook her head.

"Okay," Betty said slowly, wondering if she was perhaps expected to guess what the problem might be.

"Betty," Veronica gasped, "I need you to help me."

Veronica's tone was uncharacteristically panicked. Now slightly worried, Betty scrambled to get up off the couch. "What is it? Also...did you _run_ from class?"

"My parents are here."

Betty stared at her blankly. "That's… a nice surprise?

"No!" Veronica replied, now slightly frantic, and still breathing heavily. "It's not a nice surprise. It's a _huge_ problem. I never told them I moved out, and now they want to come and have a look at the apartment!"

Realisation dawned on Betty. "Oh," she said unhelpfully, suddenly feeling a little sick. "Oh no."

"Exactly." Veronica seemed now to have recovered somewhat, and her manner was now more brisk. "So we have to make it look like I never left."

Betty glanced around the room, taking in Jughead's bookcase, the clothes rack drying his laundry, and various neat piles of his belongings. "When are they coming?" she asked.

"In ten minutes time."

 _"_ _What?"_

Betty, now registering panic herself, watched as Veronica jogged over to the drying rack and picked the whole thing up, clothes and all.

"Yes!" Veronica emphasised, now doing her best to carry the awkwardly shaped drying rack towards Jughead's room. "So we have to hide all traces of Jughead..." Veronica trailed off as she disappeared into his room.

She reemerged moments later. "We'll just move everything into his room and hope for the best," Veronica proposed anxiously, gathering everything in sight. "His laptop...those notes...that sweater...come on, Betty, his sweater!"

Betty stood up, springing into action. She rounded up Jughead's text books, several folders of documents, two sweaters, and tossed everything in an untidy heap on his bed. They unplugged his laptop and sound system, and relocated both items to his bedroom. Betty glanced back at the untidy tangle of cords and felt supremely guilty, but also supremely relieved he wasn't home. At least they didn't have to hide him.

"What are we going to do about that bookcase?" Veronica despaired, pausing to check the time on her phone.

"We'll just tell them you like reading now."

"They'll never believe that!"

"Well we'll tell them _I_ like reading," Betty said flatly, staring at Reggie's artwork on the fridge, and thinking the bookcase was the least of their worries. She made a beeline for the first loose piece of paper she could see, and then darted back to the fridge. She arranged it over Reggie's scrawl, and made use of several of their less conspicuous fridge magnets to hold it in place. She stepped back to consider the effect, and hoped Veronica's parents wouldn't inspect it closely enough to realise it was a stray page of Jughead's course outline.

Veronica finished mopping up the puddle of water by the entrance that she'd left upon arrival. Betty was outraged as she saw Veronica toss the damp towel in the washing machine with her clean laundry, but there wasn't time to have an argument about it.

"Oh god, they're here," Veronica said anxiously.

Betty went over to join her at the window. They peered down five stories to where a black car was pulling up outside the apartment block.

"Is that a limo?" Betty asked, mildly intrigued.

"Yup."

"That's awfully fancy-"

Veronica grabbed Betty by the arm, and looked at her very seriously. "We need more time."

Betty glanced around the apartment. Bookcase aside, there was very evidence left of Jughead's residency, but it was true the apartment now just looked a little dishevelled.

"Okay," Betty agreed. "I'll go...push all the buttons in the elevator so it takes ages to get to the ground floor."

"Good idea," Veronica said triumphantly, endorsing Reggie's most irritating habit for the first time ever.

* * *

Childish though Betty may have felt, the few extra minutes gained by delaying the elevator turned out to be fairly crucial. She came back to discover Veronica had done something of a final clean-sweep, and hidden several more items she'd deemed superfluous to their feigned roommate act.

Betty did register a reasonable amount of concern about this. It was all very well for Veronica, but Betty was the one who was going to have to deal with the fallout of all of this when Jughead returned home and discovered his room now most closely resembled a storage cupboard.

"Am I allowed to ask why you didn't mention you'd moved out of the apartment?" Betty asked tentatively, as together they rearranged and then fluffed the couch cushions.

"Ahh," Veronica said arily, draping a blanket elegantly over the L-shaped couch as a final touch. "It just didn't come up."

"Right," Betty said, rathering wishing it had, but feeling it best not to mention that right now. "I see."

"I didn't really think it would be a problem. They hardly ever visit."

There was truth to that. In the several years that Betty had known Veronica, she'd only met her parents twice, and only once had she known them to come and have a look at the apartment. Of all people, Betty knew that parental relationships could be complicated, so she was hardly one to judge. But given what little she had gathered about Veronica's upbringing - an only child who seemed, out of necessity, to have been on the cusp of adulthood since a remarkably young age - Betty had always felt a little for her. For all Veronica's pretence of indifference, Betty had long suspected she harboured a deeply ingrained need to live up to expectations. And if ever there was to be proof of that, it was conceivable that this might be it.

Veronica checked her phone yet again, and, as if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Betty watched Veronica steel herself. "Just follow my lead, okay?" she said, glancing back at Betty as she walked over to the doorway.

Betty nodded.

The door opened, and Betty watched on as Veronica greeted Hermione and Hiram Lodge. They swept inside, all hugs, indignation about the rain, and apologies about the short notice.

"Hello Betty, dear," Hermione said warmly, turning to acknowledge Betty's presence.

Betty smiled and offered hugs, even though she wasn't sure if that was what was expected of her. She never quite knew what was expected of her in the presence of the Lodges, even when she wasn't pretending she still lived with their daughter.

"And how's the apartment?" Hiram asked after brief pleasantries had been made, surveying it with the air of someone who actually wasn't that interested in the answer.

"It's great," Veronica said easily. "Warm, quiet, free of distractions. We're very lucky."

"Plenty of time to focus on your studies I imagine?" he enquired.

"Absolutely," Betty affirmed.

"It looks well kept," Hermione noted. "If a bit empty."

"It's something new we're trying," Veronica gushed. "Betty's very into minimalism."

Hermione and Hiram looked slightly confused, but nodded politely and didn't enquire further. _Minimalism?_ Betty waited until they were looking the other way before frowning at Veronica, who in turn poked her tongue out.

The two of them watched nervously as Hermione went over and read the page of Jughead's course outline Betty had put on the fridge. Hiram stood at the window, hands in his pockets.

"Well," Hiram said, eventually turning around. "We just wanted to see how everything was going. You know, seeing as it's been a few years and all."

"I'm so glad you're here," Veronica replied, genuinely beaming - though likely only, Betty thought, because somehow they seemed to be pulling this off. Neither Hiram or Hermione seemed interesting in seeing anything beyond the common area. Maybe it was all going to be okay.

"I don't suppose you girls are free this evening?" Hiram asked. "I'd like to take you out for dinner."

"I would love to," Veronica said. "But I know Betty has a presentation due tomorrow, right B?"

All three of them turned to Betty expectantly. Betty cleared her throat. "Yeah, I do," she lied, feeling immensely grateful to Veronica. "So maybe not tonight. But thank you so much, I would have loved to come."

"That's a terrible shame," Hermione said. "Perhaps later on this week?"

Betty caught Veronica's eye, and knew in that moment that news of the Lodges' extended visit was brand new information to her as well. "Maybe," she smiled. "I have quite a busy-"

The apartment door burst open, yet again, and Betty and Veronica watched in horror as Jughead traipsed in, dripping water everywhere.

"Urghh," he grumbled, completely unaware of the presence of Veronica's parents. "Fucking elevator's broken again-"

He stopped abruptly as he looked up, a look of confusion spreading over his face. "Hi," he said awkwardly.

Betty gulped, and then starred very hard at Jughead in the vague hope that he would somehow understand the complexities of this situation. Veronica, however, seemed not to miss a beat.

"Mum, Dad, this is Jughead. Jughead, these are my parents, Hermione and Hiram."

Hermione smiled warmly at him, and Hiram stepped forward to shake his hand. "Nice to meet you," he said

"Same to you, sir," Jughead replied, looking mildly terrified.

"And who is Jughead?" Hiram asked, turning to his daughter,

Jughead, to his credit, seemed to realise this was not a question he was allowed to answer. He glanced at Veronica, eyebrows raised. For the first time, Betty saw Veronica look mildly panicked. They had been _so_ close to pulling this off.

"Ahhh," Veronica stalled. "Jughead is…our friend. I mean…he's Betty's friend, really."

Betty winced. For Veronica, an apt liar, this was not particularly convincing.

"He's actually Betty's boyfriend," Veronica said finally, suddenly sounding much more certain.

It was lucky that both Hermione and Hiram were looking at Jughead, because there was nothing Betty could have done at this point to hide her absolute astonishment. There was a moment's opportunity to cast Veronica a particularly appalled look, and then Betty had no choice but to say, "Yes. That's right."

Jughead, to his credit, had managed not to react at all. He was now nodding along convincingly while Veronica improvised wildly, informing her parents he was here to assist Betty with preparing her presentation. And before Betty had fully processed what had just happened, Hermione and Hiram had arranged for Veronica to go to dinner with them that evening, and for Veronica's pretend roommate Betty and her pretend boyfriend Jughead to join them later on in the week. After they had finished working on their pretend presentation.

Veronica, seemingly relieved that she'd avoided a major crisis, and with what Betty felt was a distinct lack of regard for how _Betty_ might deal with the fallout of all this, bid them farewell and hurried her parents out of the apartment.

The door closed, and Jughead turned to Betty with a particularly unimpressed look.

"So. Where's all my stuff?"

* * *

Thanks so much for reading! Will upload the next few chapters soon. In the meantime, there is more available over on archive of our own (AO3) under findingbetty is you're interested! x


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